


Kanikani (to dance)

by kyber-erso (aoraki)



Series: Keep me Warm [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Art, Gen, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets High, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoraki/pseuds/kyber-erso
Summary: Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi accidentally encounters a force amplifying substance."He found that if he concentrated on his master's voice, he could just about keep his mind above the tide of visions encroaching on the edge of his consciousness."
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Keep me Warm [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996870
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	Kanikani (to dance)

Obi-Wan had witnessed some bizarre welcoming rituals in the decade since becoming Qui-Gon's student - but this was one of the strangest.  
  
Master and padawan stood bootless at the mouth of a yawning cave. Ahead of them humanoid faces glistened in the glow of the creatures adhered to the rocks above.

Their features were alive in rapture, painted hands leaving vivid streaks of violet where they caressed other chests, shoulders, lips. The intimacy of the scene was shocking to the padawan, but he schooled his features to that of polite impassiveness.  
  
“These people choose to hold to these traditions Obi-Wan, to honour the rites of their ancestors in a galaxy which threatens to overrun their culture.” His master glanced towards him with an air of soft admonishment. “It is important that we be attentive of we wish to enter these negotiations on good faith.”  
  
“Yes, master,” Obi-Wan replied, bowing his head slightly in apology. An older woman dove towards him, hand grazing Obi-Wan's cheek as he flinched back. Another younger man trailed his hand down the length of his master’s thick braid, coating it in a paste which caught the light above with a dazzling shade of indigo. The master bore the surprise touch with much more grace than his student.  
  
“I doubt this will be coming out in the sonic,” Obi-Wan whispered as the two twirled away, examining the brilliant colour that had been stained across his face with the tips of his fingers. It had already begun crusting against his skin unpleasantly, the earthy smell of it making his eyes water.  
  
“I believe that is entirely the point, my padawan,” his master replied, snatching his hand gently and lowering it back to his side where it could hang respectfully. “The sharing is a good sign; it means we will be asked to join soon.”  
  
Barely a few moments passed before the master’s prediction was confirmed. Hands appeared out of the din to drag Master and Padawan into the fray, sky bleeding dusk behind them.

The sudden motion sent a burst of dizziness through Obi-Wan, a spell so strong a simple shake of his head refused to clear it. He stumbled into the crowd, overwhelmed by the cloying scent of body ink.  
  
A woman's hand clasped his and a sweet voice was against his ear inviting him to dance. The request only disoriented him more, and he politely disengaged himself from the stranger's hold, his palms pressing over his eyes to stop the cave from spinning.  
  
Distantly he noted that the they must have been waiting at the lip of the cave for longer than he realised to cause such imbalance. He struggled to recentre himself, as he knew remaining stationary would be disrespectful, but the nausea refused to ebb, clouding to his mind and slowing rational thought.  
  
It took him several moments to establish enough focus to locate his master. The glow of the older man was eclipsing his vision now, close.  
  
Obi-Wan swayed forward to brace his hands against broader shoulders, head dropping to watch as his feet dug into the cave floor below. The texture of the grainy minerals slithering between his toes was almost excruciatingly pleasurable, each grain sliding against his skin somehow incredibly clear through the haze of his other senses.

He let out a low sound, face pressing into his master's tabards as the feeling grew too intense.  
  
The urge to move back in embarrassment surged as he realized what he was doing, inelegantly clutching his master’s front. His face grew hot from more than just the stale air of the cave and the press of bodies around them.  
  
"Forgive me master," he breathed, mortified. "I'm not sure what..."  
  
The scent of earthy ink intensified as a passer-by swept close to the pair. Its potency sent Obi-Wan swooning, clinging tighter to the older man for balance. He willed his fists to release the roughened fabric of his master’s tunics, but they refused to obey. His mind was gripped by the ridiculous notion he would surely float away if he were to let go.  
  
The unifying force was in movement, swirling as a dizzying vortex so intoxicating, he felt his chest compress as the air escaped his lungs. His only grounding point was where his knuckles pressed against the warmth of his master’s chest.

Obi-Wan envisioned some great, unseen power cracking the planet like an egg, splitting the granite above in two, exposing the stars. He felt weightless, drawn irrevocably to the shimmering lifeforms above. He was drifting upwards, bound to spend an eternity flailing breathlessly in the glittering void of space -  
  
A thumb slid across his cheekbone, shocking him into clarity for only a moment. His jaw was cradled in a calloused palm, urging his face down from where it had somehow fallen back to drown in the light above.  
  
Qui-Gon's nose grazed his, cerulean eyes lined with concern, no doubt sensing the younger man's plight through their bond. Obi-Wan's stomach fluttered.  
  
“Obi-Wan?”  
  
The padawan blinked slowly, only his masters moving lips remaining in focus as the rest of his vision submerged into a whirling sea of colour. He found if he concentrated on his master's voice, he could just about keep his mind above the tide of visions encroaching on the edge of his consciousness.  
  
"I'm right here with you," his master was assuring him, resting his forehead against the younger man’s own so he could hold his wavering attention. "You will not float away."  
  
Obi-Wan buried his face into the larger man's solid chest, a move echoing through the force from years before as a young boy. A chuckle rumbled through the master and into Obi-Wan's cheek, sending shivers of delight racing down his spine. Gentle pressure in the form of a large hand smoothed down his nerf tail.  
  
Humiliation flared in some distant area of his mind from his lack of control, the emotion spilling from him, unrestrained. Attempts to keep himself dignified only resulted in more control slipping through his fingers like gasping at sand. His thoughts felt slow and heavy against the scent of ink and the surrounding voices enriching the force.  
  
Obi-Wan slid his damp palms along the soothingly smooth surface of his master's obi, encircling the older man’s torso as far as Obi-Wan could reach. Fingertips dug into a muscular back through coarse wool, anchoring. The world reduced for a moment to a single strong heartbeat, a burst in the living force.  
  
What was happening to him? What had caused him to lose control?

Qui-Gon was swaying him slightly, chin resting upon his head, following the waves of melody around them, emanating peace. Obi-Wan sighed, melting into the embrace. Everything was okay. _Be present_ , he remembered.

“You appear to have had an interesting reaction to the ceremonial ink used by these people,” Qui-Gon explained to the young man enfolded in his arms, his larger body muffling light and sound from Obi-Wan's overwhelmed senses. A concerned indigo streaked face peeked out from where it was buried.  
  
"I have seen this before, dear one," the older man continued, tone calm, tucking the young man's face against him once more. "I apologize for not alerting you sooner to this possibility. It should pass by dawn."

Secured in mind and body, Obi-Wan could scramble enough focus to register the decorated individuals swirling around them through the fog. The dancers seemed to blend into the glittering mineral of the cave walls, shimmering in and out of view as they twirled around each other, painted hands clasped, singing voices echoing across eons.   
  
The padawan's head lolled back to follow them, blood rushing to his head. They seemed to twirl along the ceiling, causing Obi-Wan's aura to haze with confusion.  
  
"Master, how do they stay up there?" Obi-Wan enquired.  
  
"Through sheer force of will, I would wager," Qui-Gon replied, amusement growing across his features, forearm pulling the young man upright before he could topple over from watching the dancers upside down.   
  
Obi-Wan's grip tightened around his master’s waist as the urge to join them became painful, head snapping back upright in excitement.

"Master- _master_ -"  
  
"Yes, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon indulged, tucking the learner braid back behind the padawan’s ear from where it had fallen over his flushed face. Embarrassment darkened his cheeks further, some rational part of Obi-Wan’s brain cringing at his obvious display of immaturity.  
  
Unable to put his request into words, as such willingness far from his usual subdued demeanor, Obi-Wan dipped his hands into his master's own, intending to lead the man into the ceremony. The saber worn, calloused texture of the Qui-Gon's skin swiftly distracted him.

The man's palms, though rough from years of service, were warm and resonated with the remnants of soft, emerald kyber energy. His master really did have large fingers, Obi-Wan realized, dusted with dark hair and topped with short, well-kept nails. His touch lingered against the older man’s wrist, a smile lighting the young man's face at the surge of life that pulsed there.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice startled him from the examination. He glanced up to see the man close again, eyes twinkling with some kind of rare joy.

The sight was so striking Obi-Wan couldn't help but reach upwards to trace his fingers down the side of his masters dimpled cheek, whose eyebrows promptly rose at the contact. Sobered by the gesture, Obi-Wan snatched his hand back, a light laugh leaving him momentarily breathless.  
  
"I'm sorry," he felt compelled to say, vision falling level to his master’s collarbone as to hide the sudden, inexplicable burning moisture in his eyes. Obi-Wan was unsure what had upset him so suddenly. Once again, he cursed his lack of control.

The scent of sapir and pine obscured his world for a moment as the older man leaned in, lips brushing against his damp forehead. Obi-Wan's heart felt as if it wanted jump from his chest.  
  
"Do you want to dance?" The master asked, dipping a finger under his chin so their eyes could meet again. The padawan nodded his assent.  
  
Qui-Gon span, holding the younger man against him as he fully immersed in the ceremony. They curved around painted hands which reached out to caress the newcomers.

Qui-Gon managed to delicately maneuver Obi-Wan away from most of these welcoming touches, but a few of the shorter ones managed to graze his arms, smearing more of the intoxicating ink across his skin.

The padawan seemed to no longer mind, throwing his head back as he laughed at the sensation, the length of his braid following the movement in an elegant curl. Qui-Gon felt mesmerized at the sight of it, despite not being susceptible to the ink's force amplifying effects.  
  
The night swayed on, the padawan dancing his full and the master saturating in the younger man's resulting joy. Only when Obi-Wan began to sag in his master’s embrace, and the voices thinned, did the sun rise. 

**Author's Note:**

> For nanoooo. Thank you to the lovely tess for reading this way back when the idea first cursed me. Not beta'd.  
> I'll never be happy with one - so posting early to kick it out of my drafts before it drives me completely nuts. Kia kaha whanau


End file.
